Of Roses and Romance
by SerpentPrincess13
Summary: Ib is all alone. Lost. She needs someone to take her home. But who will help a quiet, awkward young girl in this alien place? How will she escape? And will she be changed, for better or for worse? Ib gameplay write up, mostly canon. Eventual IbxGarry. Rated for gore and possible lemons later on.
1. It Begins

**A/N: So I fell in love with this game after I watched Pewdie play it, and really loved the characters (especially Garry!) and the whole idea of the art come to life. Oh, and I absolutely adore the soundtrack. I recently watched Cry play it too, and that inspired me to do a write up of the gameplay, but to put a little more Garry awesomeness and fluff in there because I love it so much. So... Enjoy!**

* * *

In the early afternoon, under a grey sky...

Ib and her parents were on their way to an art gallery...

"Did you remember everything, Ib?"

"Oh! Do you have your handkerchief? You know, the one you got for your birthday?"

"Keep it safe in your pocket, okay? Don't lose it!"

* * *

IB

I followed my parents reluctantly through the great glass doors of the gallery. A modern building, designed to draw the eye to the art and the art only. White, pristine, sterile, boring. I didn't want to be here. I would much rather be at home. I like doing art, sure, but looking at other people's? Well, how many kids my age like looking at old paintings?

I tugged at my red necktie, fiddling with the silky fabric. My mother turned to me, smiling softly.

"Well, we're here." She paused for a moment. "...This is your first time in an art gallery, right, Ib?" I nodded. "We're here to dare an exhibition of works by an artist named Guertena... And they don't just have paintings, but also sculptures... and all kinds of other creations! I don't doubt even you'll enjoy it, Ib." Uh huh. Whatever.

"Shall we get to the reception desk?" My father seemed eager to continue. He likes art. Especially the weird stuff. He was the one who suggested we come here.

"Ah, yes. Let's get some pamphlets as well." They walked to the reception desk. I followed, holding onto Mum's hand. There was a poster behind the desk, a dark blue, with a disturbingly ugly fish on it. It creeped me out. They stood for a while, talking to the receptionist. I quickly got bored, and tried to peer around the corner, curious. Mum noticed. "Hm? You want to go on ahead? Really, Ib..." She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Oh, all right. Just make sure you're quiet in the gallery, okay? Don't make a ruckus! Not that there's any need to worry about you, I suppose..." I smiled a little awkwardly. I'm a quiet child. Not really a... people person. "Don't cause the other visitors any trouble, now!" I nodded, letting go of her hand and running eagerly down the corridor. Immediately in front of me, I saw the picture on the poster, but a lot bigger, sprawling over the floor. This fish's dead a eyes stared up at me, mouth open, revealing needle-sharp teeth. I walked up to it, leaning over the railing. The navy blue paint looked so lifelike, I almost thought I could dip my toes in the inky water. Going to the placard, I tried to read the title. I'm dyslexic, so complicated words make no sense to me, but I did my best.

? OF THE DEEP

_A world where no man will ever stand..._

_To ? that world, I decided that I would ? it within the canvas._

I stared into it for a moment, feeling like I could fall straight in, but then stepped back, deciding to move on.

In the next room was a beautiful sculpture. A rose, its dark green stem curling and winding, covered in pointed stone thorns. The deep scarlet, chiselled petals blossomed from the top of the stem, glossy and looking like satin. A few such petals lay on the ground, scattered. I wanted to pick them up, to try to stick them back onto the flower. They were its source of life. It needed them!

Then I remembered it was just a sculpture.

_Hey, I guess this Guertena guy is better than I thought_, I mused as I wandered on.

I actually rather enjoyed looking at the different paintings and sculptures as I continued through the gallery. I particularly liked the beautiful dresses draped over mannequins, like the ones in shop windows without heads, and this weird wax sculpture that looked like a melting blue alien. But nothing stood out as much as the giant painting in the final room. Its swirls and colours looked so alive and so beautiful, realistic yet surrealist, completely unknown yet welcoming. Like a doorway to another world. I wanted to touch it. I found myself drawn to it, mesmerised, and I reached out a hand. As soon as my fingers brushed the canvas, a strange feeling overtook me. Like I was falling. I drew back, startled, almost tripping over my own feet. But then I regained balance. I put a hand to my head, confused. Was I ill? Then I noticed something was different. I frowned, thinking for a moment. Then it hit me. The silence. There was no more soft babble of voices, no understated classical music playing through loudspeakers in the corners of the rooms. Nothing. I froze.

Wha... What was going on?!

Even as I thought this, the lights flickered and went out. I felt a shiver run up my spine.

"Mum? Dad? Anyone?!" ...Silence. I swallowed.

I was alone.

* * *

**...Was that half decent? I hope so. I made Ib dyslexic to explain why she struggles to read so many words. That makes sense, right? Anyway, I don't want to be one of those authors who is like REVIEW ME PLZ OR I WILL KILL YOUR FAMILY or anything like that, but hey, it would be nice to hear what you guys think ;) Oh, and feel free to correct me if I got any part of the game's storyline wrong. Thanks! xxx  
**


	2. So Lifelike

**A/N: I know what you're thinking. Chapter 2 already? This fic will get finished in no time! **

**...Well, as much as I'd love to promise you that, I'm one of those people who gets loads done in a week then completely forgets about it. So... If I suddenly disappear, you might want to bug me about it to remind me. All reviews get sent to my email address, so I should get them. Maybe. I'll try!**

**But for now, I'm still going strong, so keep a lookout :)**

* * *

IB

I was alone.

"Mum? Dad?" I could feel the panic rising as I broke into a run, tearing through the empty, dark, eerily silent halls. "MUM! DAD!" I could feel tears in my eyes. Where were they? What had happened?! I ran to the exit. The glass doors had become sinisterly black, and as I grabbed the handle and pulled, they stood steadfast, not budging an inch. I could feel tears pricking my eyes. I was locked in this strange place, helpless and alone. Feeling an awful sense of helplessness overcoming me, I sank to the floor, and cried, the sound of my sobs echoing in the desolate hall. "Mummy... Daddy... I'm scared... Please come back..." But no answer came. Before long, I found myself dissolved into pathetic wails, tears streaming down my cheeks. I stayed there for a long time, back to the wall, eyes and nose streaming. Eventually, eyes sore and puffy, throat raw and sleeve soaked, I managed to pull myself together. I would never find my family again if I sat here and cried forever. I had to grow up, and be the big girl I always wanted to be. I stood up, making myself promise to be brave, to not let this happen again. I took a deep breath, steadying myself, then stood up. I had to find a way out of here, back to my parents, back home. I began to explore again. The gallery seemed the same, except for the distinct lack of people, except now, in the half-light, the portraits looked ghastly, disturbing, the sculptures looming over me ominously. I could have sworn some of them moved.

I was walking past the rose, when I heard a cough. I spun round immediately, hoping there would be someone, anyone there. There wasn't. I thought for a moment that I was imagining things, but then I noticed a painting on the wall. A painting of a man with his hand in front of his mouth. I hardly dared to read the title.

THE COUGHING MAN.

I felt goosebumps on my arms, and tears threatening to spill once more, but I fought them back. _No, Ib_, I thought, _no more tears. You have to look after yourself now._ So I gave the painting one more glance, making sure it was still, then walked on.

As I went around, I noticed more and more strange things. A fruit splatted on the marble floor beneath a painted fruit bowl. A painted black cat miaowing. I felt a growing sense of foreboding as I did a complete circuit of the gallery, and I was faced once more with the giant wall painting, where all this had started. I stared at it for a moment, hating and loving it at the same time, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Blue paint leaked from under the frame, dripping slowly down the pristine white wall. I blinked, confused, as its trails and drips ran into one another, then apart. I almost screamed when I saw they formed words:

cOme dOWn beLoW IB ill shOw yoU sOMeplaCe seCret

I did scream when I turned around.

Daubed across the floor in red paint, scrawled and dripping,

COMEIB

I ran.

Back at the exit, I hammered on the doors desperately.

"HELP SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!" I looked around frantically. I needed someone to help me... I saw a movement. A shadow flitted past the window in the wall. A human-shaped one. I pressed my hands to the cold glass, hammering on it. "I'M IN HERE! HELP!" No response. "Someone..." I dropped my hand. What am I doing? I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat, and walked upstairs again. Almost immediately, I heard a banging on the glass that made me jump out of my skin. Right in front of me, a smudged handprint stained the window. I took a step back, scared, then ran downstairs again. I had to get out of here.

Unsure of where to go, I went back to the room with the fish painting. And stopped. There was a gap in the railing, and the same blue paint that spelled the message on the wall led trails into it. The faint lapping of water reached my ears. I stepped forwards. The fish wasn't moving, but the water...

Almost before I realised what I was doing, I was stood at the water's edge.

Should I go in?

Is there anywhere else to go?

I suppose not...

Checking one last time that the fish was utterly still, which it was, I dipped a foot in. The water was cold. I shivered slightly, and pulled my foot back. What was I thinking? I turned to walk away...

...And felt a pair of invisible hands push me backwards into the inky black pool.

* * *

**Hmm... I'm not sure if I like what I did there. Ib seems a bit of a coward. Still, She's a little girl, and most kids would act like that if they were suddenly trapped in a strange, creepy place all alone. Oh well. **


	3. One Man

**A/N: GARRY! Hehehe my inner fangirl is currently rejoicing. Come on, I have to put Garry's story in here too, don't I? Explain how he got to being sprawled on the floor half-dead. Well, this is the first part of that. I hope it turns out alright...**

* * *

GARRY

I've always found a strange beauty in art. Not necessarily a typical beauty. That's on the surface. But art, and especially Guertena's marvellous pieces, have many, many layers of beauty to them. They tell stories within stories, and each time you see them you discover something new. Art captures a picture of the artist's soul.

But that...

That was a new level of art. It did not capture an image of a soul. It had a soul. It was alive.

* * *

I was visiting the gallery on a dull, grey day. The very world seemed lethargic, tedious. I needed to inject some life and colour into the day. And Guertena's exhibit seemed the perfect way to do that.

I visited alone, of course; I prefer it that way. I've always been a little bit... different, I suppose, what with my choice of clothes and hair, and the way I act. I'm very guarded, very tentative of the real world. I prefer to lose myself in books.

Or art.

When I first entered the gallery, I was enthralled by the pieces. They were so vivid, so lifelike. They depicted another world. I wanted to be part of that strange, ethereal world. They symbolised things I believe in.

I came across a trio of headless mannequins, each wearing the same dress but in three different colours: blue, red and yellow. They looked identical, but for the colour. I read the placard.

DEATH OF THE INDIVIDUAL

I smirked. Certainly people were ostracised for being individual. I knew this from firsthand experience. They were all faceless, walking copies of one another, wearing the same clothes, the same hair. Carbon copies. Death of the individual indeed.

I moved on.

The next room held a massive painting that covered the wall, positively spitting colour and life. It was beautiful.

FABRICATED WORLD

I wanted to be there. To be in that place, wherever it was. I was drawn to the canvas. I knew I shouldn't, but I wanted, longed to touch it. I reached out, feeling the tips of my fingers ghost over the lines of the painting. I immediately drew back. I shouldn't have done that. I looked around, to see if anyone had seen. There was no one there. I sighed in relief. Then frowned. No one there? This gallery was full of people before... Where was the chatter, the music? As I left the room, the lights flickered and died. I looked around the corner. No one. Silence. I wandered around, perplexed. No one was here... Then I heard a cough. I turned. There was a large rose sculpture behind me, and a portrait. A portrait of The Coughing Man... Was I hallucinating?! Feeling ever so slightly scared, I continued to walk. And noticed more and more paintings appearing to come to life. Was I going crazy?

I heard a wet _splat_! I jumped at the noise. Looking around, I noticed a red stain on the white floor. Moving tentatively over to it, I saw that it was a fruit. Underneath the painting of a fruit bowl. I stared for a moment, then reached out a hand. The skin was soft, the juice wet and sticky on my fingers. Unmistakably real.

...Does that mean this gallery was really coming to life?!

This... This had all started when I touched Fabricated World. So maybe I should go back there, find a way to get things back to normal. And that's what I did. I searched the room up and down, touching the painting, examining the frame. Nothing. Then I noticed something blue trickling from the frame. I stared as it formed words.

CoMe gaRRy doWn bEloW waNna seE a sEcreT?

I screamed, falling backwards. How... How did it know my name?! Then I saw something beneath my foot. I pulled it away quickly. A single letter G smeared on the floor in a sinister red liquid. My mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was blood, like one of those cheesy horror movies, but closer inspection proved me wrong. Paint.

Shaking, I stood up, and stepped back, until I felt my back hit the wall. There were more letters. They seemed random, dotted around the room. But then I saw it.

COMEGARRY

Come Garry.

I felt the panic rising, beginning to hyperventilate. Where was I? What was happening to me?! I tore from the room, desperate to escape. I was majorly freaked out by this. How did it know my name? Who painted that? Why were the paintings coming to life?

I knew immediately that trying to get out was pointless once I saw the black void that was outside the doors. I wasn't going out there. Nope. So I resolved to find another way out. But I did not want to go back upstairs, to that room. Instead I stayed on the ground floor.

Bad move.

A trail of blue footsteps led to a gap in the railing around the giant floor canvas, Abyss of the Deep. I could hear the gently lapping water. Oh no. No way. I was NOT going in there.

As I stepped back, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all, I heard footsteps behind me, and a banging on one of the windows. I jumped. Was someone there? I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye go upstairs. I followed it without thinking. There was another window at the top of the stairs, I ran to it, and banged on it twice. No response. I was immediately terrified by the ghostly spectre I'd seen. It wasn't another person. Who knows what it was?

This place was not good for my mental health. I had to get out.

How? The exit was blocked. There was no way out.

Unless...

No, Garry. You're crazy already. How could you even think of that?!

And yet, before long, I found myself stood at the water's edge.

_Come down below, Garry_. I thought I heard a ghostly voice, echoing in my ears. Then I was pushed. And I fell, screaming.

* * *

**So... I guess Garry got into the other world the same way as Ib. Makes sense, I suppose. Plus I'm just not very creative like that. Also, does it seem a bit rushed? Does to me but I don't know how to make it better... :/ Yeah, I'm one of those people who criticizes themselves all the time. Maybe I'm just paranoid. Anyway. Moving on.**


	4. Welcome to Our World

**A/N: AND SO IB RETURNS. Yeah, I might alternate between Ib and Garry for the next few chapters, until they meet up. I don't know yet if I'll put two different POVs in one chapter... Maybe. I'll see how it turns out. I'm also trying to decide which of the endings to write, and how many... Hmm. I know! How about you guys tell me which endings you want to see written, and I'll do the most popular ones? Well, there's a long way to go before that, so I guess I'll have time to decide, one way or another. BACK TO THE STORY!**

* * *

IB

My whole body was immersed in the cold water. It seeped though my clothes and my skin, seeming to go right to my bones. I held my breath as I sank. I couldn't swim - the cold made my limbs feel like lead. I felt my lungs strain for air. I needed to breathe. I vaguely wondered if I would drown, but even as I thought this, my consciousness slipped. I couldn't concentrate. If I had been able to see in the dark water, my vision would have blurred, and I felt myself slip away as the last few bubbles escaped my lips...

* * *

When I came to again, I was lying on a deep blue carpet in a half-lit hall. Checking myself over, I realised I had a few bumps and bruises, but nothing serious. More curiously, my clothes and hair were completely dry, and I felt warm. Like I had never been in the water. I sat up, studying my surroundings. There were stairs behind me, but I couldn't see the top of them To either side of the staircase were paintings. They appeared to be mirror images of one another, except that one was blue, the other red. They were both encased in gilt golden frames. The hallways on either side were dark. Pushing myself to my feet, I decided to go down the hall with the blue painting first. Blue is generally a friendlier colour than red. As I walked down the hall, I felt like I was being watched. I glanced at the walls briefly. Just about legible, in blue paint on the blue walls, letters, repeating the word COME over and over. I stared at the floor, speeding up my pace. This was creepy.

Eventually, I came to a door. It was blocked by a small wooden table, upon which sat a clear vase with a few inches of clear water in the bottom. Sat gently in the vase was a flower, a red rose, its rich green stem resting in the water. The flower itself looked a little worse for wear; just three rich scarlet petals bloomed at the top. I wanted to take it. It felt special, like it was mine. I felt protective of it, such a beautiful thing in such a dark place. Carefully, I took the flower, and slipped it into my pocket. I instantly felt safer, although I didn't know why. Now, with the rose in my pocket, I pushed the table to one side, and got to the door. Steadying my nerves, readying myself for whatever I might find, I turned the doorknob.

I let out a sigh of relief when I saw there was nothing threatening in the room beyond. Just a painting of a friendly looking woman with blue hair, eyes closed, and a note pinned to the wall. I read it.

'When the rose ?s, so too will you ? away.'

I frowned, but turned back. As I walked to the door, I felt something under my shoe. Looking down, I saw something glinting on the ground. I bent down, and saw it was a key. _This might come in useful,_ I decided, so I slipped it in my pocket along with the rose and my lace handkerchief. Content, I stood up again. And screamed. The painting lady's eyes had opened scarily wide, showing snakelike slits. I felt like it was judging me for taking what wasn't mine.

I quickly left that room.

I didn't notice the writing on the wall had changed until the word appeared on the carpet in front of me, like it was painted by a spectral hand.

THIEF

"I'm sorry!" I shouted, fighting back tears again. There was no reply, so I ran past, back to the paintings. The staircase was gone. I was trapped here. I kept running, until I reached the end of the hall, and another doorway. I tried the doorhandle, but it wouldn't turn. I almost panicked, then remembered the key. Slipping it in the lock and turning it, I heard a click. I tried the handle again, and the door opened. I ran inside and shut the door behind me hurriedly. This room seemed alright. This time, the walls and the carpet were green. I could see four paintings on the wall opposite. A ladybird, a bee, a butterfly, and - I shuddered - a spider. I hate spiders. I could just about make out a tiny bug crawling around on the carpet. I didn't mind it. I'm alright with most bugs. In the middle of a short corridor to the left of the bug paintings was a pillar with another note stuck to it. I read it.

'Beware the edges.'

I didn't know what that meant, but I took its advice, walking straight down the middle of the corridor.

I got about halfway down when it happened. A hand leapt from the wall, grasping at air, trying to reach me. I shrieked, and jumped backwards, only to back into the opposite wall and feel another arm wrap itself around my waist and pull me back, crushing the air out of me. I scrabbled at the thing with my nails, but it was hard as stone and relentless. The claws on its fingers dug into my side, sparking pain through me. I screamed as I felt blood trickle down my shirt. Using all of my adrenaline-fueled strength, I managed to prise it off, but it left long, deep furrows across my belly that stung badly. I sprinted away, avoiding more hands as they reached for me. There was a door, which I immediately tried to open, but it was locked. Of course it was locked. I looked around frantically for a key, but no luck. How to I protect myself from the hands? I wondered. Then I had an idea. There was another painting, this one of an ant, on the wall. It was quite large, almost as tall as me, but I could carry it. I took it down, holding it out like a weapon. It was fairly light, being on canvas. I could hit the hands with it if they tried to grab me. And that's what I did.

Safely back on the other side of the room, I walked past the bug paintings, careful not to step on the little bug crawling around, just in case, and propped the ant painting against the wall carefully. Further down the hall, I saw four paintings depicting the life cycle of a caterpillar. I smiled, remembering a picture book my mother used to read to me when I was a toddler about a caterpillar. The Very Hungry Caterpillar. I loved that book.

There was another door here, which did open, and I went in. A small room, empty except for a crack in the floor. It was too wide to jump. I was confused for a moment, and wondered how I could cross it. Maybe I could use the painting as a bridge? It might just about be wide enough. I left the room, and collected the painting, taking it through the door and gently laying it a cross the gap, careful not to drop it. It was only just big enough. Nervous, I tested it carefully with one foot. It held. Taking a deep breath, I ran. I dared only take a single step on the painting, crossing it in two bounds. I looked back. The image of the ant was squashed, oozing red paint. I swallowed, but continued. I was now able to go through the door on the other side. It led to a long, thin room, with one painting on the wall, and a headless mannequin, identical to the ones in the gallery. I moved towards it tentatively, but it remained immobile. I saw there was a key on the floor in front of it, and, reaching out with one hand to pick up the key, all the while keeping an eye on the mannequin. No sooner had I touched the key, then the mannequin started moving towards me at an alarming rate. I let out a shriek, and ran from the room, key in hand, back over the painting and to the door on the other side. I was about to pull it open, when I heard a tearing noise, and then a terrible crashing sound from behind me. When I looked back, the ant painting had a great rip through the middle, and there was no sign of the mannequin. I breathed a sigh of relief. It had fallen into the crevasse in the middle of the room.

I was safe for now.

* * *

**Well, that was fun. The only problem with this is I have no clue when to stop... Hmm. If the chapters seem a little choppy, that's why. **

**So I'm currently in love with this one piece of music. Garry's theme, Hide and Seek, piano version. You guys should check it out. Oh, and I wrote this chapter listening to Memory. You know, the title theme. Yeah... I adore the OST. Anyway. NEXT CHAPTER.**


	5. Trials and Tribulations

**A/N: So this chapter was being slightly annoying because I wrote it and then it decided to delete itself, and I couldn't be bothered to write it again. But hey, the show must go on, and I'm back now!**

* * *

IB

I stared down at the little key in my hand. It was delicate, but simple, silver and plain. I assumed it must be for the door at the other end of the hall, as that seemed to be the only way forward. Taking care to avoid the grasping fingers of the wall-hands, I made my way back up. Trying the key, I found to my relief that it was indeed a match, and the lock clicked softly. Opening the door, I shivered when I met a pair of large, painted eyes on the wall which appeared to stare at me, watching my every move. Looking around, I realised the whole room reminded me of a cat, its face painted on the wall opposite me, pale brown carpet and darker walls. There was a fish-shaped indent where the cat's mouth should be, and a door either side of me. I wondered which door I should go through. I knew nothing about either, so I figured it didn't matter. In the end, I decided to go through the door on my left, as I usually choose left if given a choice. I never knew why.

Nothing jumped at me when I tentatively pulled the door open, so I stepped through. I could see two rows of square columns, and I approached the first cautiously, wary of more wall-hands. It was plain, except for what appeared to be a scrawled picture of a stick man. As I got closer, words formed in a dripping yellow liquid below the image in messy, childish writing.

_Play hide and seek?_

I frowned, but decided to look around the room. I assumed I had to find a matching drawing somewhere in the room. On the next column was a pair of red curtains that seemed to be covering a painting, with a large yellow button below it. I realised each of the columns, except for the first, had an identical set of curtains and button. Supposedly what I was looking for would be behind one of these. I pressed the button gently, and the curtains pulled back to reveal a painting of a crescent moon. Instantly the already dim lighting faded until it was so dark I could barely see. Sighing, annoyed, I moved onto the next painting. Unsure of what was going to happen when I revealed the next painting, I slowly reached out, bracing myself as I pressed the button. A high pitched scream pierced my ears as the painting was revealed, and I barely had time to register the portrait of a naked woman before I felt a sharp, burning pain in my cheek. Had... Had the painting just slapped me?! The curtains fell back over it and I quickly moved on, not eager to get slapped again. I pressed the button and stepped back, out of range should I be attacked again. But what met my eyes was worse than a slap to the face. It was... Me? A painting of me, hanging upside down, a look of tortured agony on my face. I shrieked. How?! Wh... Why?! I stared at it in horror for a few seconds, a shiver running down my spine, then moved on quickly, eager to rid my sight and mind of the horrible image.

The next image wasn't nearly as bad. The most disturbing thing about it was the word OUT daubed across it, and, quite frankly, I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. I breathed a sigh of relief when the next painting yielded the image I was looking for; I was beginning to really hate this game. Immediately, the yellow liquid leaked out from under the frame.

_Found me, you get prize._

I heard a light thump, making me jump slightly. Investigating the sound, I saw a painting of what seemed to be a cutting board, and a hand holding a large carving knife. Below it, I saw something on the ground. A wooden fish's head. It looked like there was another piece to attach to it. I pocketed it. As I pulled my hand out of my pocket, I saw a red rose petal clinging to my hand. Remembering the rose, I pulled it out. It looked a little damaged, just three petals now clutching to the stem. I frowned, but replaced it. My pocket probably wasn't the best home for it. I resolved to place it in the next vase I saw, if I came across another one.

Leaving the room and walking across the hall, I entered the next room. It looked like some sort of storage room, full of taped up boxes and uncoloured, unfinished sculptures. It was... Creepy, to say the least. As I took a few steps in, the lights flickered and died. My instincts told me to run, but I took a deep breath and continued, knowing I had to find the second part of the fish key to go on. Continuing, I found a vase with a small amount of water in the bottom. Digging out the rose, I placed it in the water. Immediately as I did so, a most miraculous thing happened. Right before my eyes, it began to bloom again, life flowing through the withered petals, making them look stronger, softer and brighter. Two more petals grew, replacing those it had lost, and the stem looked greener, healthier. Even as this happened, I felt a strange sensation wash through me. The weariness and slight pain in my limbs faded, and I felt the scratches on my stomach tingle. Looking down, I saw they had healed completely, leaving only a faint pink line. _It must be a magical rose, _I realised, _my health is linked to its health._ In that case, I would have to look after the flower very carefully, and make sure it was kept safe.

Slipping the delicate bloom back in my pocket carefully, I explored the room further, inspecting each sculpture. As I did so, I heard a noise behind me. Turning, I saw that one of the sculptures was sliding across the floor, seemingly of its own accord. Jumped back, startled, as it made its way towards me. I slowly backed away, unsure of what to do. I was saved the trouble of getting away, however, as it slowly pitched forwards, shattering on the floor. I stood still for a moment, inspecting the shards. Laying in amongst them was a strange shape. I reached in and picked it up. It was a wooden fish without the head. Knowing what to do, I took the fish's head from my pocket and connected the two pieces. It now made a shape that I recognised would fit in the indent in the wall. I went back to the middle room, and pushed the fish into the gap. No sooner had I done so then the wall itself fell back, revealing a new passage. I could swear I heard the ghostly mewling of a happy cat as I walked down the path to face my next trial.

* * *

**Done! I know this chapter was a bit late but I promise I'll write whenever I have time. Don't forget to leave a review and tell me which ending I should write! Bear in mind I might write other endings as separate fics once this one's finished. Thanks!**


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